


Up in the clouds

by ethereal_larry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Larry Stylinson Is Real, London, Long-Distance Friendship, Long-Distance Relationship, Love, M/M, New York, Skype, larry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 09:46:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4662069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ethereal_larry/pseuds/ethereal_larry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where love can be endless but still be caught up in the clouds, caged and reckless. Or the one where even though the promises are said, doesn't mean they can't be broken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Up in the clouds

Saturday night, or an early Sunday morning. Loud music, sweaty bodies. And two perfectly lost and undeniably drowned boys. They were drowned in each other, far too senseless to appreciate the moment of their first kiss properly. But despite being out of the edge, stumbling around the dance floor in a heated huddle of poisonous movements, mumbling incoherent words into each other's necks, they both had this disgustingly romantic, over the limit cliche-like feeling in the back of their hearts that they were  _different._ That this whole  _thing_ was never like those countless before. That they were going to remember and  _want_ to remember the names, the tastes, the touches. They knew they'd be some kind of lucky people, whatever that meant in this hectic world. So they enjoyed the night and the ride after and spent the morning in lustful kisses and warm cuddles, rambling about nothing and everything at the same time while laying in bed and watching afternoon movies. It was crazy, they thought. It was destiny, they knew. As if they only knew anything. Anything to come and let go. Maybe if they knew the journey, they'd never wanna see the end. They'd never start the engine and look at those four red lights fading. Maybe they'd leave with a friendly memory of one drunken night and lips to die for. Nothing more and nothing less.

But they never knew, they couldn't tell the future, nor could they even  _sense_  the stirring. So they went with the tide and watched the moon growing and fading every dawn. A beautiful legacy of the circle of life.

They had their first official date just two days after. Louis finally collected enough courage to ask Harry out, properly, like the gentleman he was. It was brilliant. They never had that much fun on a date before. It was almost like the ones in the movies they hated on the outside but craved to be a part of on the inside. They would never admit, not even to themselves, they were falling for each other so quickly. They both were so scared to fall in love this hard, but who were they to fight their feelings? Who were they not to fall deeper and deeper when they shared a small, close-mouthed, innocent, sober kiss, so different from those they needed the night they met.

Louis was 23.

Harry was 17.

Their worlds were almost too different to work together. But they somehow believed they'd be able to manage to make it work for them. They hoped they'd make everyone jealous. Because the  _love_ in the air they willed to share was the feeling that filled the whole universe.

They fell deeply in love while Harry went to highschool and Louis worked in an office downtown. Everyone who knew about their twisted bonds thought they were crazy. Maybe they were. Crazily and madly in love. Like a teenage couple, ridiculous and wild. Louis felt so young again, just as if Harry brought a new wave of fresh breeze into his lungs.

They both knew that they were hard to find and even harder to keep, but somehow they thought there was something priceless about the unconventional way of sharing  _I love you_ 's while Harry was doing his homework and Louis was cooking dinner. And even though Harry stilled lived with his parents, he indeed had his own drawer at Louis' place and a pillow to sleep on in his bedroom. Half married but half apart, nothing better was on sale that time they looked in each other's eyes.

Maybe they found it arousing just in the purest way, when Louis got to go home soon and picked his little curly boyfriend from school, much to scrunched, jealous looks on most girls' faces. Because giving Harry sloppy kisses in front of an audience was one of the most favorite activities of Louis. He knew they were fabulous together, who wouldn't with Harry by their side?

There was definitely a hint of amusement in Louis' eyes when he was invited for a dinner at Styles' household. Anne wouldn't believe he was that old and actually loved her son, while Louis kept repeating he has never been as happy as he was with Harry in his arms. There was also a lot of blushing and hidden touches under the table, which made Harry's heart speed up a bit every time he felt Louis' soft skin against his. It could be just fingertips brushing, or a whole palm on his thigh, but it always felt the same. Burning and beautiful. It was definitely laughable when Anne caught them with a smirk on her lips, cuddling in Harry's bed right after they excused themselves after dinner. Harry really did want to show Louis some of his collection of vinyls, but they ended up trying Harry's bed out. A small experiment to see if they fitted which turned into a lot of giggles and kisses.

Those were the times when both of them were nothing but grateful. Content. Just as it was. Because the world turned flawless for them. Louis' work wasn't so much of a bother anymore and Harry... Harry was just a happy kid again. With their routine of waking up together at weekends, while Louis had green tea with two lumps of sugar and Harry just a plain black coffee. Harry loved the little things Louis would do for him, he loved the little presents he would always get from wherever they've been. Harry just loved Louis in general, there couldn't have been a doubt about the heat in his green irises when he watched his boyfriend just exist.

Time flew by, best months of their lives. It felt like only a heartbeat. They had that kind of relationship which was as fragile as pink porcelain but as strong as ship sails pulled by a storm in open ocean. It was what it was and they never wanted it to change. Arousing. Every stare. Hot and lustful. Everything they've ever been and a lot more they wished for.

Louis had always believed in true love. He was maybe more of a romantic than Harry. Strange to see at the first sight but once you got to know him, you knew that those matching tattoos were Louis' ideas, that it had always been Louis with incredible speeches and picknick baskets. Some kind of life long bonds, he said he needed. A proof they couldn't be torn. A reminder that what they had was real. They were silly, they were called dumb. They had too many, they shared too much. They almost became one person with so much emotional connection between the two love birds with broken wings. The way headed in only one direction, down it was, a crooked path with icy steps and sharp stones. They went barefoot, too careless to feel the pain. They wanted to call the journey beautiful, but they still had no idea how much more awry it could get.

After a while, Louis kept a framed picture of Harry in his office and a card he made him for his birthday during their first year. It was very cheesy, Louis was aware, but who was he not to love the little creature that could light up his every crossroad with just one cheeky smile?

It was a time full of paradise thoughts in a city of most people's dream. London could be mesmerising if you looked just under the right angle. It wasn't so grey anymore when you had a sun walking next to you. It never rained and the temperature was mild when you had a hand to hold.

They thought, or maybe it was only hope, that Harry turning nineteen wouldn't affect them. But Harry was a photographer. The best university was in New York. And Louis was stuck in London with no option in moving out of there. And the scholarship Harry got was a offer that couldn't be denied.

They never realised until that summer that just because you love... doesn't mean that love can't tear you apart.

*

[London, 18th September 2014, 11:24pm]

"Hey baby, you hear me?" Louis asked, eyes tiredly semi closed, voice sleepy and raspy.

"Yup. Hi, love. How was your day?" Harry answered, with radiant smile that lit up the whole screen. The one Harry was famous for.

"Tiring actually. Came home from work at about nine. But how was your first day of uni? Enjoyed it? Tell me everything," Louis tried. Louis really honestly tried to sound excited, but the yawn that stretched his mouth told a completely different story. He was exhausted. And lonely. And it's only been two weeks since Harry left. But he missed his touch, his warm breath and soft hair so much it physically hurt to see his face only through the computer screen. Wchich they did every night. And Louis was just... desperate.

"And they say I'm the girl here."

"Hey," he said a bit offended, "stop it, I just care, okay?"

"I love you, you know that right?" Harry said, loud and confident, sure enough to make Louis smile a little. Pride rose inside his chest as he remembered how much he used to mumble his feelings out. Their first _I love you_  had to wait for its time to shine almost half a year.

"Of course, I do. I love you, too," Louis said in a duh tone, but his eyes were undeniably filled with rich emotion. If you didn't know what was Louis feeling, the colour of his irises always said it all. He couldn't hide the truth with his eyes wide open. Harry especially loved the ocean-after-storm shade of blue. It appeared at those times they were alone, just taking in each other's features. It was Louis' colour of Harry, his colour of love.

"Perfect, because I want you to remember. I want you to believe me. Because I do. I love you so much, Louis. I love you and only you and as cheesy as it sounds, I will always love you. More each and every day. I will. Never forget. It is what it is."

"What would I do without you, my little butterfly? You're the sun and the moon, brighter than the stars. I sound utterly stupid right now, but I don't really care. I love you, I adore you and I will never be able to stop loving you, because I need you. I need you so much, selfishly and completely. Never forget you're the reason I am who I am."

"Fine, fine, stop the track, not ready to tear up, ya know?"

And then they smiled. It was the saddest thing they've ever done to each other.

*

[London, 1st October 2014, 2:13am]

"Louis?" Harry croaked, desperate and upset, sadness flowing across the ocean through the phone call.

"Harry? Why are you- ...Oh let me get to the comp, 'kay? Not gonna be long," Louis hung up and immediately turned the laptop on.

[two minutes later]

"Hazz? What happened? Why do you- Are you crying? You are... What did-?" Louis rambled, half asleep and utterly concerned. The light of the screen almost blinded him.

"No, no.. God no, it's okay, jus' miss you? I'm sorry I woke you up, I won't do it again, sorry, I'm dumb. Just gonna go," Harry sniffles and fidgets with his T-shirt. It took all Louis' willpower and consciousness not to jump in the car and drive to the airport.

"Love... Oh- oh it's fine, I miss you so much, too. Wish I was there to hold you. I love you. We'll make it through," Louis smiled a bit, eyes warm but eyelids too heavy to let to notice.

"Don't promise things you can't say won't happen. Just don't," he wiped his tears and sent a sad smile all the way across the ocean.

"But I love you. That ain't gonna change."

"I love you, too. You should get back to sleep, I'll call tomorrow. Sweet dreams, marshmallow," Harry smiled a bit brightly, blew a kiss and leant into his armchair.

"You too... Fool." Louis chuckled and caught the kiss in the air, treasuring it like the biggest victory.

*

[New York, 12th November 2014, 7:21pm]

"Louis?" Harry asked, there was something behind his tone that made Louis sit upright and sense the danger.

"Yes, Harry?" He asked, concerned and scared.

"You don't love me no more?" Harry shot his question, harsh and upset. His eyes were watery even in the dim light of his dorm room.

"I- what? Harry, what are you talking about? Of course I do love you," shock ran through the blue eyed boy's body. What was that meant to be?

"I'm sorry I just... you can have some friends," but what Harry seemed to mean weren't friends in the innocent way, "some friends when I'm over here. I'm sorry I just...."

"Harry, will you tell me what for the bloody hell you mean?"

"I saw the photo of you and that guy. I'm not mad. I understand. I'm not there, it's alright, Lou."

"Which photo exactly?"

"The one on Tyler's instagram," Harry said and Louis immediately found his friend's account on his phone. Then he smiled. Smiled so wide it was scary.

"Harry, darling, it's my cousin. It's George. Just George. We were hugging. Only that. Oh love," Louis was still smiling at Harry's confused face.

"I'm so stupid..."

"No, you're not. You love me. And I love you. But I would never cheat on you, believe me."

*

[London, 24th of December 2014, 11:56pm]

"Can you hear me, love?" It almost begun to be a routine. The words flew from Louis' mouth almost unconsciouslessly.

"Happy Birthday! I made it on time, please, tell me I did," Harry smiled and his curls just messed around his face, "did you get my present?"

"Yeah, four minutes to go, you've got plenty of time to congratulate me on my 25th, oh-- I meant 20th birthday. And yes, I did. It was so awkward. You didn't have to get me  _those_  boxers," Louis mocked irony and smiled to himself. He knew Harry'd make it. And he also imagined opening the present with his mum, when the present later appeared to be underwear with gay-sex print on them. He also got a bracelet with H+L craved on the other side, but the boxers said it all.

"Found the alchymist's gold, I suppose. How's immortality going?" Harry laughed and a painful arrow striked Louis' heart. It's been so long.

"Pretty good, forever 20, still feeling younger than you, love."

"Dunno, I'm feeling 17," the curly shrugged.

"You're  _always_  feeling 17, bet it's because we met when you were there," Louis laughed, still caught up on that memory.

"Maybe... but today's about you and friends here are pretty mad at me, always talking about you," he chuckled and Louis had to bite his lip to avoid bursting in tears.

"Told them how good I am? With you?" Louis smirked, hidden pain behind his blue eyes.

"Yeah, just like that. I told them how much I love you, how perfect you are when you smile and what you do to my heart whenever I hear your voice. Yeah, I pretty much described them everything about you."

"Harry, I-"

"I love you, you know? Even though I'm thousands of miles away, you're still the one. I love you, Louis Tomlinson."

"You're- I love you so much, I'm so in love with you. I wish you were here..."

And later that evening, later that night, they both silently sobbed into their pillows, tears full of freezing hot, never disappearing and so much painful  _love_.

*

[London, 14th February 2015, 10:00pm]

Louis was sat in front of his laptop, dressed in a suit and tie in a dark shade of blue and impatiently waited for the little green dot appear next to Harry's name signalising he was online. Chicken stuffed with mozzarella cheese, wrapped in parma ham with a side homemade mash was placed on his table next to a glass of wine. It was sort of a tradition. With every special occasion Louis would cook the only fancy dish he could and they would eat it dressed like the posh people they've never been and drink the best wine they'd find in their cellar.

He was disturbed from pleasant memories by a ringing noise his Skype made.

"Hey, love," he pressed the accept button and smiled widely.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Harry screamed excitedly, the same food in front of him as well. They decided they won't break something they'd created just because of a stupid distance. Louis helped Harry with cooking through texts and it all went almost too calmly for the hurricane the Harry Styles was in the kitchen.

"Cheers!" Louis picked his glass up.

"To us!" Harry chanted back.

It was one Louis' favourite memories with Harry on the other side across the ocean. Because it almost felt normal. It was almost like good old times fashioned in a new waterproof coat. If only his fingertips could brush Harry's fringe out of his eyes and not the cold screen oh his laptop.

*

[London - Heathrow, 15th May 2015, 12:16pm]

"Where are you..." Louis mumbled under his breath while he waited inside of the airport hall. Harry was meant to come at noon. Yet, he thought the plane hasn't even landed.

"You waiting for someone?" he heard that familiar voice behind himself and if they weren't in such crowded place, he'd definitely tear up a bit.

"Harry..."

"Love, oh god."

They kissed as if they never kissed before.

"You're- you're-"

"I'm here. I'm home."

Harry held Louis in his arms, younger and taller, because no building felt the same as Louis' warm embrace.

Harry would stay two weeks. Two long weeks filled with visiting every family member he hasn't phoned from New York. Two weeks of Louis' holiday as well. They wanted to spend most of their time together. It was the biggest treasure they held. Time. They couldn't get hands off each other which was rather understandable. Harry was twenty at that time and Louis could tell the change only from his looks. His jeans were even tighter and boots higher. T-shirts designer and hair, oh his precious curly hair were long enough to curl one's fingers in and pull all the way...

It was the second night after Harry landed in United Kingdom. The first he obviously stayed at his mom's house where an invitation party was thrown. But the second in Louis' flat, after a delicious dinner and a cliche movie, it was like a dream. It was like the first time they share the intimacy. The same ignition in their fingertips, those goosebumps all over their bodies.

"Harry," Louis moaned under under his boyfriend's lips, too caught up in that moment that he didn't realise there was no piece of clothing left on their skin. It was suddenly too hot in their bedroom, flames danced in their hair, but shivers ran down their spine every second their lips brushed. A delicate flower was what Harry smelled like. He has always done, Louis suddenly remembered he missed the scent all the time but before never realised.

"I missed you so much," Harry whispered while pecking and sucking on his boyfriend's neck.

"Me or my lil' friend?" Louis laughed breathlessly, waiting almost three quarters of year to use this joke. Suddenly, under those big sensual hands, it wasn't so funny anymore.

"You're an idiot," curly bit on his neck a bit too harshly, "and for your information, it's  _my_ friend, not that little as well I must say."

_Fuck you,_ Louis wanted to add but he came to terms with knowing it would happen anyway. They haven't felt it for too long to resist.

"You're a bit too clothed, aren't you?"

And they both did their best to prove this statement wrong. The floor was filled with various pieces of clothing in no time. They didn't really want to be that fast but the craving of something they missed for too long was unbearable by the time they were naked.

It was hot and too messy with a lot of muffled groans and screams of each other's name, but it was somehow magical. Too wild to be considered romantic, but maybe that was the way their relationship worked. Right on the spot and never planned out.

And after the act when they were taking shower together just as they always did, it felt as if Harry never left and was 17 again, careless and free. But most importantly, by Louis' side.

*****

[New York, 8th June 2015, 3:24pm]

It was Harry's day. Just him. This was all about him and his photographs.

_Colours_ _filled with black and white_ by  _Harry Styles._

His first exposition. He only wished Louis was there to see it in person. Because Louis was the one who inspired it all.

Pictures of ordinary things from surprisingly mesmerising angles, veiled in black and white with only one part glowing in passionate colours. Louis once told him, in a moment of loveable honesty, that that's how he saw the world. Nothing in colour, but Harry. Harry was his charming rainbow with whom he didn't mind the rain.

He remembered it made him tear up a little but at that time he was too proud to let Louis take a glimpse of how much more he felt for the man of his dreams from then, I'd it even was possible.

But now, it was the time to show weakness to prove he was strong.

It wasn't a big thing yet, just twenty pictures, the best Harry had ever made, in a small gallery partly subsided by Harry's school. He was the first one to have his  _own_ exposition, though. It had always been at least a pair of students or a group. However, Harry was perfectly fine with that, he liked his work perfect in every single detail and he only believed in himself with his perfectionalism.

He didn't want to admit it not to scare the opportunity away, but he was proud. Proud of himself because he had made it on his own, without his parents without anyone near. He wouldn't be able to do it without Louis, but it was a completely different case. Louis was his muse. Beautiful and undeniable muse, making him see the world differently.

The official start of the occasion was meant to be at four pm where all the guests would be able to have a first peak of his work and Harry would give a speech he's been preparing for weeks. Right then, he was alone in the white marble room, looking at his pictures for the last time. He believed they wouldn't be the same after so many people watching them. He imagined everyone's eyes burnt little holes into the paper, leaving it changed for whoever came after them. It was an unchangeable process. It felt like changing Harry's point of view, like changing Harry's personality. But then, when he sat in the middle of the hall on the cold ground, he could only think about how much the red on the photo called  _Lips_ resembled the shade of Louis' cushions just after he was done kissing him. He couldn't get the image of the pink shade Louis' cheeks would turn to when it was freezing outside in  _Cheekbones._ But the first picture everyone would see, just opposite the entrance was a picture of a raging ocean. He made a pretty dangerous trip with fishermen to take the photo. It was the one he was proudest of. And the colours, every shade of blue you could imagine, we're shaped into a big eyes in the middle. It was  _Chop Suey,_ you could tell just because of its eyelashes _._

Harry loved the idea that he was the only one who really knew what the pictures meant. He loved the feeling of it being somehow intimate with a person so far away. He refused to let him see the pictures before the official release. He just wanted to watch him being fazed with how much Harry loved him.

The closer to four the more nervous he became. He received multiple texts with reassurings, couple from Louis with sending love and waiting for a video of his speech and that he was looking forward finally seeing what was Harry working on for so long.

It was his time to shine and he wasn't going to let his shyness destroy his chance to shine brighter. Just like the moon Louis has looked up to so much.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, friends of art, my beloved listeners,   
I am honoured to be the one to have this huge opportunity this year. My name is Harry Styles and I'm here to introduce you to my very first exposition called 'Colours filled with black and white'. It's a bit extraordinary way to form a title but I'm sure you'll understand when I tell you more and when you  _see_ more of what I've created. It is such a pleasure to welcome you all this afternoon.

At first, I would love to thank all of my teachers who were very kind on me since I arrived. As you can see and probably hear even more, I have come across the Great Puddle from good old Great Britain to represent my country as a grateful guest. Thank you for every opportunity you gave me and for the incredible support I have received so far," Harry was met by excited applause and he smiled self consciously. The harder part was yet to come and he was already on the verge of tears.

"Secondly, I'm delighted to tell you what even is this all about. I'm sure you are not surprised when I tell you it's all  _myself._  It came from the deepest corner of my heart and from the way I felt. But it's much more. I've never been a word magician, you see, I'd rather put everything in frames. Although, this is something I need to say and I think that the person I am talking about waited too long to finally hear it. I would love to dedicate this moment to my boyfriend who unfortunately can't be here today since he works back home in London. I don't really know how to start, so I'll say it simply. This is all for him. If it wasn't with the thought of him in my mind, we wouldn't be here. Once, he told me, that this," Harry made an obnoxious gesture, pointing at every wall, "this was how he saw me. He told me I was his colour of life, I was his little rainbow under an umbrella. He has always been so sure about me it almost scared me. He knew I would make it far and for him, I want to go even further. Every piece of art I have ever made belonged to him. He is my muse, my good and bad, my everyday thought. I hope I made it visible in these pictures, in every single colour I had created. These all represent my ethereal love for him. So let's just stop here for a while and thank Louis Tomlinson, the love of my life, for being the way he is, for being the greatest person in the world. Thank you Louis and thank you all for coming, hopefully, we'll see each other soon," Harry has ended with a single blink of eyes, very aware of the tears making his way up, the lump filling his throat and smile so wide it could conquer Louis'.

And when Louis watched the video of Harry's speech, alone in his bedroom, he never thought he loved the boy more.

*

[ New York, 19th August 2015, 10:43pm]

Harry was finishing editing and adding filters to his photos. It was too hot to go to bed even though he hadn't slept much the previous days. He didn't really know that concrete jungle could be  _that_ warm in summer. He thought that maybe the walls would stay cold for him to at least touch them. So he was working, curtains thick and closed. His mind would occasionally drift to the greatest beauty he's ever seen. Once it was a shade of blue of the sky that reminded him of how powerful Louis' eyes could be. Then it was a pink flower which brought him the feeling of such soft lips on his own. Then it was only a glimpse of tight black jeans and Harry realised it wasn't that those things were randomly resembling Louis. He took photos of them on purpose without really knowing that.

He just missed him that much. And that brought him to his craziest idea and the prettiest dream.

He has sold many of his photos and he worked twice as hard to make more money. He knew Louis himself wouldn't be ever able to afford a ticket to New York. And well, Harry knew how much Louis craved to see the spooky atmosphere of the city during Halloween.

The thought itself made his toes curl in anticipation. He'd have enough time to save up just as much as he needed if he worked at night, too. Although, it meant spending less time talking to Louis, but he was convinced it was worth it. If he knew how wrong he was, maybe he'd spurn the idea a bury it deep into ashes of his unrealised dreams.

His phone rang and for a slight moment he thought about ignoring it. He though picked up and the crying sounds on the other side made him want to throw up.

"Louis?" he asked, scared, scared, oh so  _scared._ Because Louis never cried. Not when he wasn't  _broken._

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry Harry, can you forgive me? Love, please, I didn't mean it with him, I didn't think I just... I'm so sorry, I'm a total fuck up," he sobbed, voice a bit shaky and obviously polished with alcohol.

"What- Louis what did you, don't tell me you... Where are you?" Harry was fazed. Realisation slowly sank deeper into his mind and he wasn't sure he had the ability to talk more.

"I'm so sorry, Harry, please, let me explain. I didn't want to, he-" Louis cried harder and harder but Harry stayed emotionless. A self defence mechanism, might have been. He was hurt before. And he knew the bitter taste of betrayal.

"What the fuck do you want to explain? You went out, got drunk, fucked someone, end of the story, isn't it?" Harry's voice was razor sharp and as cold as ice.

"Harry, I-"

"Bye, Louis, call me when you're sober. Or a little less of a jerk, whichever comes first."

And after he hung up, all the photos in front of him were torn and wet from tears that streamed his cheeks. He was such a fool.

With the money he's already saved he bought himself a new camera objective. A little band aid for the bullet in his broken heart.

[London, 20th August 2015, 1:01pm]

Louis had woken up with a brain-breaking headache and dried salt under his eyes. The emptiness of his heart felt like a sharp arrow straight into his Achilles tendon. He was a literal dick. He has promised, he swore not to hurt him in the worst way of them all. That blonde wasn't even worth it. His teeth were crooked and eyes faded. His breath smelled disgustingly like vodka and coke. The skin on his palms was rough. He couldn't be more than twenty, but he wasn't bright with youth, there weren't the sparkles just as Harry had always around them. Yet Louis was too lonely and too drunk to see the consequences. Not even an hour in a dark alley behind the bar and his life was utterly destroyed, smashed into clammy pieces and wiped on his face. It wasn't only a feeling of disgust. That was what Louis exactly was.

He hated his guts and his stomach obviously hated the amount of alcohol he drank last night. Purging was painful, but it couldn't subbed for the pain in his chest. He was such a disrespectful person. He loved Harry. And he had to screw up like that.

Harry's words still echoed Louis' mind.

_Bye, Louis, call me when you're sober. Or a little less of a jerk, whichever comes first._

The distaste in Harry's tone when he said his name was ringing in his ears, making it impossible to get rid of the guilt flooding his veins. He was sober enough to beat himself up on his mistakes, but it didn't make him any less of a jerk, just like Harry said. He was hopeless and sick and sick of himself and just the world in general because he has always been the one to stomp on his happiness with the boot of Harry's size. That thought itself would make him smile, Harry and his shoes, but not when the situation was impasse.

He finally made his decision, his heart heavy and mind empty. He didn't even know what to say. What was there left to explain? Being drunk and lonely was the lamest excuse he'd swore he never use. But what was he going to say when everything seemed so ridiculous in his mind?

He pressed the call button on his phone next to Harry's name. A smiling portrait of a face he had betrayed appeared on his screen and he felt even sadder.

"Hello?" Harry's rough morning voice echoed through the speaker. It was Sunday. Harry was probably asleep and if Louis was able to dissolve into mist, he would on the spot.

"Did I wake you up?" he asked in a small voice, his whole body trembling with contained sobs.

"Louis?" he asked confused at first, but then his voice hot thicker, more manly and definitely filled with rage, "how the fuck d'you imagine this? You call me up as if nothing happened? You're such an asshole, Louis. Why do I even love you..." the last part Harry mostly mumbled to himself, but Louis heard it too well not to feel the amazement.

"I'm so sorry, Harry. I can't even- love, I can't take it back, nor can I make it better. All I have to do is try to make it less painful if you gimme the chance. Please, baby," Louis begged, soft and tender.

"Don't baby me. You cheated, Louis, there's no way in fucking hell to make it  _less painful,"_ he hissed through gritted teeth. Even through the phone Louis sensed his curse.

"I-I know, Hazz, please, you know me better than I know myself. You know I didn't mean it. I was just..."

"Don't pull this card, Louis, don't you dare, you can't blame it on me. On being drunk, lonely, I know what you're _thinking,_ but this is not about me. How do you think you'd feel if I just called you in the middle of night and told you like a sappy little bitch I fucked some boy. Just like that. What do you expect me to do, tell you I forgive you? Comfort you even? Stop kidding yourself, this is not a romantic comedy. I'm mad, I'm fucking crazy just with the thought of someone else touching you. I can't even think of  _you_ right now without having an urge to blow chunks."

"You can't leave me," Louis whispered, it was more of a plead than a command.

"I don't know. I don't know anything right now. I need some time. For myself, maybe. For you... It would help. Let's just... Rest a bit from each other. I'm sure I'll, I hope I will figure... I'm sorry--" and just with that he hung up, not letting Louis say a word.

For the rest of the day Louis just helplessly wandered around his home where everything reminded him of Harry and the times they were together and happy and not on a break everyone knew was a camouflage for something bigger and more importantly destroying.

*

[New York, 13th September 2015, 6:39pm]

Harry has been desperate for the past three weeks he hasn't talked to Louis. It was more of a torture for him than it was for Louis, he thought. Little did he know Louis resembled a walking death, emotionless with empty bottle of wine Harry loved every evening.

Harry was in the same condition, even though he didn't want to show his emotions off too much. His friends still noticed and asked and bragged until he finally slipped and told them everything he had buried in his heart. It was calming in a way he couldn't explain. Telling someone about someone else when the two didn't know each other personally. It was some sort of anonymous. He felt like an ant in a city that never slept.

That evening in the middle of September, Harry couldn't stand it anymore. It was too much for his poor little soul, only having half-off his heart in his chest while the other belonged to Louis.

He grabbed his phone and filled the number he knew by heart in a matter of seconds. It didn't even take two rings for Louis to pick up.

"Please, don't stop loving me..." was what Harry said, voice so broken it might have sounded ill, he was sick, though. Sick of everything but Louis.

"I can't stop..." Louis was taken aback with such sadness filling the phone line. It attacked his ears like a tsunami.

"Just promise me you won't. I love you. Promise you're not gonna do that no more. Promise to be faithful. Promise to love me, oh I need you so much. Isn't it sad? I need you more than my own heart."

"I promise, oh Harry, I could promise you everything in the world. I'm so sorry, love."

"You are enough. Just you and I. Together, okay?"

"Yes, Harry, oh god. I love you so much."

"I love you, too, Lou. Forever, don't forget."

*

[London, 16th May 2016, 5:23am]

Louis' phone went off, the most annoying thing at half past five in the morning. He blindly searched his bedside table. Although, his eyesight got a lot more better when he saw the ID.

"Hazz? It's like... nighttime. What's up?" he grumbled, still half asleep.

"I'm not coming."

"What? But- why?" Louis sat upright in his bed, dizziness fillling his mind.

"I just... look, I can't, I thought I'd make it, but- It all went wrong, I'm just, just really busy with, uhm, finishing projects. I can't come now. I'm so sorry, love," Harry rambled, but his words were mixed up in one.

"But you had your ticket?" Louis asked, still fazed and on the edge of desperately screaming his lungs out.

"No..."

"No? What do you-"

"I hadn't bought it. I wasn't sure and here it goes. I should have told you but there was a slight hope..."

"I- oh, uh- yeah, so... Will you be coming later, or?"

"Definitely later, I'll come for a week or so. I'm so looking forward to seeing you."

"Yeah, yeah, me too. Love you."

"I love you, too. Go back to sleep, Boo," Harry smiled even though Louis couldn't see that through the phone, a bit too upset to believe it.

And Louis, Louis never went back to sleep that morning. He thought about how much he loved the boy, the boy he hasn't seen for so long. The boy that could burn his heart down into ashes yet still owned every piece of it. He thought about how much of his fault this situation was. It was never the same after that night in August. It was raining since then, raining heavily on his head full of shame and regret. He knew he was an ungrateful idiot, but he couldn't change it. He'd sacrifice his soul for that night to disappear, he would, but there was no devil standing in the middle of his living room any morning of the year. There was no other option than to accept the fact it did indeed happen and live with the consequences.

*

[London, 14th June 2016, 1:40am]

Harry has come home for the second time since he left. It was terrifyingly emotional. It was the first time Harry knew Louis' hands were on someone else's waist, his lips on someone else's neck. He has forgiven him, he tried, but the betrayal still tasted like lead on his tongue. It heavied his heart and left his fingers shaking.

It was late and they were sat on a couch, watching a film none of them was paying attention to. They would steal secret glances at each other's faces, smile when they'd catch their eyes.

"Louis... I need to tell you something," Harry said out of blue, head on Louis' shoulder, fourth glass of wine in his right hand. The colour on his cheeks was a deep shade of crimson.

"Mhm?" Louis hummed in response, lifting his own glass, pinky poking out, to take a delightful sip.

"I-- uh, it's just..." Harry started and it was suddenly so silent in the room for him. He couldn't continue, he couldn't look up to meet Louis' waiting eyes. He was almost sure they were light blue, just like the sky in summer. The colour of worry.

"Hazz, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I keep messing up, just tell me what's wrong so I can fix it," he pressed a soft kiss into Harry's curls and the younger boy felt the sharp burden of guilt over again, even stronger than when he'd made the decision on his own.

"It's not- oh Lou, it's not you. You've done nothing wrong. It's just, I can't, I'm not- I," he felt Louis' hand reassuringly rubbing his back. He almost started crying at the touch.

"Love, you can tell me anything."

"I'll be staying in New York for six years, not four," Harry then blurted out. He closed his eyes as if it would help with pushing the reality further away.

"You can't, you can't... No, Harry. Come on. It's a joke, right? A goodie, I suppose taught you well. Cheeky chappy, aren't you?" Louis laughed and lifted Harry's weight off of him.   
"I'm not joking, I got an offer to take a course and have a job. But I have to be there for six years at least."

"You're..." Louis shut his mouth, finished his glass of wine and sighed deeply, "so what do you want me to tell you? Should I congratulate you? Well, great for you, sure, go and chase your dreams, don't think about the ones who actually love you just to prove yourself something you don't need. Have you ever, just the slightest bit, thought about me? About how I feel back here?"

"Louis, it's not like-"

"What? So you're not leaving me for another four years instead of two? What is it then? You know I can't move to you. You know it's impossible. I know I hurt you, I know I did, but I didn't think that that you'd- I thought you would- Fuck I was so stupid. I thought you'd come home... I hope you wouldn't leave me, I thought you loved me. Is it someone else, Harry, you can't betray me because of pieces of paper."

"How can you say that I don't love you? A bit selfish from a cheater like you, Louis, don't you think? Well I'll be gone, so  _you_  can fuck little boys as much as you want. Isn't it just great? You should be happy," Harry sat upright, tears almost spilling out of his bloodshot eyes. He was full of hurt and rage, mixed up in some indescribable mash of poisonous words. It has been almost a year. A year, just enough time for the right amount of hurt to bubble inside Harry's chest, waiting for the final nail for the final click and just then it busted through the door and out Harry's mouth.

"Harry..." Louis' breath was taken away.

"Don't... You can't have me all for yourself. I'm not that boy anymore, not the one that was always by your side. I grew up, I changed. I saw what real world's about. Are you jealous of that? You're stuck in here with your stupid little job, never destined to do anything bigger. Are you mad that I followed my dreams? You could have been good, too, if you tried harder. I saw your acting before you gave up. Don't blame me for your mistakes, I'm not your pretty doll, no more, Louis, not anymore," Harry was fully crying now, but maybe it wasn't sadness that flooded his lips. It was a stream of everything he's never said out loud because he was scared to lose him. It was all left in ashes now.

"I can't believe you-, I didn't deserve it, Harry," Louis whispered, tone broken.

He got up. Not a glance exchanged. He took his keys and a new bottle of wine. Harry was wonderstruck. Desperate to see behind the veil curtain of Louis' still face. He knew he crossed the line, but he couldn't stop the words coming from his mouth.

"I want you out by tomorrow morning, I don't want to see you until you realise what you just said. You're the selfish one here, Harry, think about yourself or maybe - don't..." and after that Louis closed the door of his own apartment and left speechless crying Harry in his living room, boozed and pitiful.

"Louis..."

*

[New York, 26th June 2016, 8:27am]

An annoying sound of Harry's new ringtone, - who even would've thought that  _Do you really want to hurt me_ by  _Boy George_ was a good idea? - woke him from his dreaming, dreaming of better days and brighter past, where everything was described in alphabetical order and Louis wasn't still mad at him. Just the world he would die to live in, which was rather ridiculous., if you thought about that deeper. But he decided to pick the phone anyway.

"Yeah?"

"Hazz..." Louis. It was definitely him but his voice sounded as a soulless mystery, the one story you had heard but were too scared to ask about further.

"Found your chill?" Harry was too proud to be the first one to apologise. He needed to prove a point, whatever according to him it was. He just didn't want to be the one to come and beg for forgiveness anymore. He felt the need to be strong.

"Harry..." Louis' tone of astronomical torture poured through the line but Harry hasn't finished yet.

"Well, I suppose you're the one who thought, aren't you? What a pity we had to go the harder way to make you come to senses. Was it nice when you left? Did you even come back?"

"Harry, please..."

"What, Louis? I was waiting on the airport for you to show up, but you never did. I guess I'm not that worthy anymore, goten too old for ya?" the rage and fear mixed in Harry's head just as before. He was internally crushed when he climbed the stairs to the plane door, sending one last glance towards the hall which was empty for him. He finally understood the  _lonely in a crowded place_ saying.

"I wanted to... I was going..."

"Yeah, right. You were. I don't believe you. I'm not making the same mistake again."

"Listen, Harry, please," Louis begged silently. Listening to his voice made Harry even hungrier, though he didn't know for what. For revenge? For a kiss?

"I'm not going to do what you want no more."

"But she's dead, you idiot. She's fucking dead and you just brag about yourself," it wasn't much of an insult but more of a choked sob that came from Louis' throat. Harry was caught midsentence. Blood had drained out of his body as if those words pulled the plug.

"You-what?"

"I was- was driving to- to the airport. I felt bad, I-I was harsh on y-you and she wanted to say... Say goodbye. I went fast. Way past the limit. We were short of time and... I just, the noise, I heard he screaming and- I woke up in a hospital and... Harry," Louis was uncontrollably hiccuping by that moment his voice broke down definitely.   
"She's gone."

"But... I just, who?"

"Mom, Harry. It was my mom. She's gone."

"Oh- oh my god. Louis. I'm. God. Fuck. I'm sorry. Just. Holy shit. Are you okay?"

"I don't care about me. It's my fault. I should've been dead. Not her. Not her.  _Not her_..."

"Lou, shh, it will be alright, Lou, it's not your fault. If it's anyone's, it's mine. I shouldn't have, I didn't mean to say those things. I was just mad. I love you. Baby, please," Harry was crying, too. Johannah was like his second mother. He couldn't think straight. It didn't even feel real.

"How can you say it'll be alright? I killed her. Nothing's gonna be fine. Are you not listening?"

"Do you want me to come? I can.. If I book plane ticket, I can be there in two days."

"You don't want to see me like this."

"Louis, I saw you after the experiment with blonde streaks in your hair, nothing's more terrible than that." and Louis dryly, sadly chuckled.

"I believe... But no, Harry, it'd be too much money, besides its your exam time, isn't it. I just... I thought, I'd let you... I'm sorry."

"Louis, it was not your fault, understand? It was not."

"Yeah... Yeah," Louis whispered, not convinced at all. Who'd be surprised, though? He was driving too fast. The other driver could have been drunk but still, it was his fault he left Harry, it was his fault they fought. It was all his fault.

*

[London, 23rd September 2016, 0:54am]

"What's up, Lou? You seem off. Had a hard one?"

"Jus' tired, 's all," he mumbled, mind still flickering over those thoughts that occupied him for weeks. They were like aliens visiting his planet, or maybe he was the foreign one in his own mind. He couldn't be sure of anything in times of pure madness raging.

"What's this? Is it your mum, love, I understand, but... You don't talk to me, please do... I said I was sorry if it's about me."

"I can't Harry, don't you see this whole," points hopelessly between himself and the screen he's facing, "thing isn't working? It's not her anymore, it's us all over again. I can't live without you, but this is killing me, too and I just can't... I can't- this is.. too much, too much to bear. I can't face this anymore, I love you, but-"

"But you don't want to anymore. Got it."

"I do, god, I never meant it to come out like this. I'm just tired. Of all these night calls, never getting enough sleep because I can't hold you and stroke your curls while you snuggle up to me... I love you, but you're breaking me. I tried to be mature, I tried to stay strong for you, but I can't do it anymore. Don't you see? It's breaking you, too. I see the bags under your eyes, how you push all the words out like they poison you. Look at us and tell me we're fine. Look at my face and in a mirror and honestly say we're not broken. We're not drained out of our strength and pushed to our limits."

"But I still love you."

"I know, Harry, please, I know. I love you so fucking much, but I'm not able to live like this no more," he sniffles a bit, "I've been thinking about it a lot. I don't wanna have you going, but I need to recover. This  _ruined_  me and I can't fix anything that keeps breaking. Nor can you. This... This is just wrong for both of us, we've made our mistakes and sure we also had great times, but every ride has an end and our just came. It's-"

"I know. I figured. I know. Jus' hurts. To hear it. To realize. But we're on the same page, Lou," Louis visibly winced at the nickname but Harry couldn't make himself to do anything about it, "I'm sorry I can't make you happy anymore. I'm sorry it is my fault-"

"It's not-"

"It is. Everything is. I'm sorry I put you through this, but I won't ever be sorry for loving you, don't wish for me to say it," Harry hesitates before continuing, "I still love you, but I'm here and you're there and I can't come back home to you and you can't come here. I get it. I thought about it as well. For a couple months now. Like three, I dunno, since I came back from home. Since that, you know, when I- never mind just, I don't want to break up, god please I would never, because we've done nothing wrong with this relationship going, nothing we weren't able to forget and bury deep beneath the ground. We're perfect together. Just not now in the same place and at the same time. 'S all."

"Harry..."

"Don't give me this look, Boo. You started this. There's no way back, no crooked path up the mountain. We're already at the top. Don't pull the face at me, it makes me weaker, I don't wanna cry like a baby. We now just have to love each other in a different way. Separately, you know, it's fine, you'll be fine."

"And what about you?" Louis asked. It was like a fresh cut with salt and vinegar rubbed in.

"I'll get through it. One day. I don't know, you'll be alright and then-well I'll get my time for sure as well."

"Why does it feel like you're breaking up with me, when I was about to break up with you?" Louis dryly chuckled, not a pinch of amusement at all. He barely held the tears in. It was ridiculous. Break ups are never like this, Louis went through too many to doubt it. But still Harry has always been special and everything they had was above different; he was sure he'd never find it again.

"We're not breaking up. Not all the 'you did this and I did that' thing. We just go our own ways because there is none for us both. Not for another four years. We're on a crossroad and you want to go left and I'm going right. Sometimes it's better to let go. People get over things once they realize there are memories to keep. I don't want you to forget we had  _u_ _s,_ I just want you to live your life the fullest which is obviously not in this relationship. You'll be fine without me there."

"So this is it? You're never coming back? You're staying in New York?"

"I don't know, Louis. Too early to tell. I like it here, I like the weather. It's different. The booze, the people. You'd love it here. Been here only two years, though. Can't say much about future. But I can imagine myself staying here. It's nice, I like nice stuff."

"Yeah, you always did. Like the shirts of yours. Nicest in the whole gay bar, had most junks after you."

"No need to bring up the day we met, 'm still sick when I think about the hangover."

"You fell for me on the spot, right? Jus' tell me. Because I did when I saw you first."

"Lou, stop, I'll start crying."

"No, I want you to know I did. I fell for your smile and your sloppy dances. Adored how red your cheeks appeared under the light when you were talking to me, so shy and quiet. I almost worshipped you the moment I touched you. You were special, still are. That's not gonna change. You know me, I don't change anything easily."

"I thought you'd reject me. I was only a kid, suppose. Didn't know much about this and that."

"You were underage, love. I was at first... Worried, I must admit."

"Shush, I'm getting somewhere. The thing is I thought you wouldn't want me around because I was... Well, me," he pointed at himself with an awkward smile and sad eyes, "and I wasn't enough for you-"

"But you were-"

"No, Louis, let me finish. But apparently I was and you let me into your world, and that's what I appreciate. You let me be with you, admire you. Because you're such a good person to just be around, you know? You don't even realize, but people scar their back to spend time with you. Just simply because it's  _you._  It has always been overwhelming and still is, really. You are. There was a time I wanted to be like you so bad I nearly lost myself in all the perfectness of yours."

"Harry, I-"

"But I'm grateful. For every lesson you taught me, for everything I granted from you. Thank you for being yourself and teaching me how to be myself and how to be finally happy about that since you're so  _shining_ , even though you're so old by now, 26 almost, what an age. You old little man." Harry smiled through tears.

"'M not old. Just overgrown kid." Louis grumbled with shaking lips and tear streaks on his cheeks.

"I know... I know," he added, almost whispered, "Well, that's it. I'm finished. I just, I guess we-"

"Goodbye, Harry."

"Yeah, um, yea'... Goodbye, Louis."

And when the screen went black at Louis' computer, he couldn't hear the broken  _'I love you'_  on the other side of the world mumbled in hot tears and silent acceptation.

*

[London, 5th November 2016, 10:38pm]

Louis fiddled with his phone for a whole hour now. When he finally grabbed the courage to open the message app, five more minutes passed.

_To Hazz:_

_I miss you_

_[11:03pm]_   
_From: Hazz_

_Miss you, too._

*

[London, 10th November 2016, 1:01am]

Louis couldn't sleep and the fact he had to work early didn't help much either. He's never been one of those people to get in bed and drift off the second their head touches the pillow. It was hard, almost two months without the precious, silent  _I love you_ , he's grwon used to hearing every night before sleeping for the past four years. It felt like he was missing. Not just a piece of his soul, but his whole consciousness. He was lost in a labyrinth with ten feet tall walls and dim light which created shadows of monsters appearing in his thoughts.

_I miss you so much..._

He didn't even try to remember. It was all so distant, every memory, every mistake. It felt as if it never happened. As if Harry never existed. Because everything was less painful than knowing he was on the other half of the world, maybe in the same misery. Maybe waiting. Just like Louis had been for so long. And waiting for what? What was there left to wait for? They were gone, they and their future. Did they ever have one in the first place? Shouldn't have they known?

_I need you in my arms..._

It was maybe too late to save them. But he still loved him. He thought that maybe it would slowly fade away, he wished he would forget. He just wished he was convinced it was the only right thing to do. Because he knew they could've made it out with just a little bit of more effort. And then there were days he thought he wouldn't survive another Skype call if they lasted. He was on a roller coaster of emotions and feelings and it hurt too bad to go back and fly through Harry in his mind all over again.

Because he still loved him the same.

****

[New York, 9th November 2016, 8:02pm]

_What have you done to me?_

Harry was laying in his bed. Too early to be sleeping, but what was he supposed to do when it felt like life has drowned from him in a riptide of cutting emotions?

_I still love you..._

Nothing was the same, all the people surrounding him noticed. Harry was silent, numb almost to anything. His photographs turned black and white, no colours anymore, no Louis. A flick of a button that darkened his whole world. Flowers didn't bloom and birds stopped singing in the morning to welcome the sun. It was like a neverending nightmare in a city of sleepwalkers.

_I want you back in my life..._

All Harry had was Louis'. He gave him his heart the moment they fell in love. He offered his soul in the second he'd heard his voice. And he never complained, never regretted. But there were things left unspoken, it might have been the truth about their life. They were addicted to each other and it was never healthy. Addictions... we all have them, we can't give up on them so easily. Neither could Harry. Because Louis was the sweetest drug of them all.

_To: Loubear_

_I know it's the middle of a night but... how was your day?_

_From: Loubear_ _(four minutes later)_

_It's been... tiring, haven't slept for ages. What about yours?_

_To: Loubear_

"I'm exhausted. I'm desperate, I love you... I need you, I'll come back, Louis. If you say everything will be fine, just like you promised, I'll come home." Harry started writing with tears brimming his eyes. With a painful pang in his heart he deleted what he's written and took a deep breath.

_I'm alright, haven't slept much either, school's tough. How's work?_

_From: Loubear_

_Work's the same. No new position, no more money. Only much more hours to kick my boss' butt._

_To Loubear:_

_Oh sorry to hear that, how's London?_

_From Loubear:_

_Still the same. Traffic, tourists, couples on the bridges. Nothing's changed_

Harry was desperate for conversation. He needed to imagine Louis' voice saying all those words. He felt as if the nothing was supposed to mean something else, something different than just a situation at home. He wished for it to be at the back of his mind. However, he wasn't so sure if he wanted to realise what's been hidden behind seven letters filled with venom.

It was terrifying. At least to Harry it was. No such thing was relief of freedom. No better times to come for him, no sparkling tomorrows. He was alone and he was lonely, two completely different feelings he both hated. He craved company, company of Louis, of his scent and of his pillow. His soft touches and breathy laughs. Just everything about the man that has been his world since he discovered there was a brighter side of the moon for him.

He couldn't forget how warm Louis' hands were or how pink his cheeks turned when he was cold, when snowflakes fell in his eyes in January. He missed his look and the way he looked at him as if he was not the only one, but the prettiest flower he's ever seen. Harry was no one extraordinary, Harry wasn't special, but with Louis... With Louis he felt he'd be able to carry mountains. He believed Louis was the one, he still does. He shut the outer world out of his shell and locked himselfnin his head with a throbbing feeling of missed opportunities.

_To Loubear:_

_You should see the weather here! 6" of snow for a week now. Freezing my ass off._

_From Loubear:_

_Haha guess what weather is here._

_To Loubear:_

_Well, let me think. I don't know. Probs scorching hot, isn't it?_

_From Loubear:_

_Indeed. I definitely don't have a broken umbrella bc of the breezeless airspace._

_To Loubear:_

_Thought so. What a lovely weather in London, I see._

_From Loubear:_

_You sound like a nanny rn Harold. *mocking high pitched voice* What a lovely weather, sweetie, do you want a piece of an apple pie?_

_To Loubear:_

_Never knew you were this kinky, wait a bit, gonna add it to my list_

_From Loubear:_

_Says the one who wore panties. #masterofwisdom_ _#_ _mylittlesissy_

_To Loubear:_

_Don't say you didn't like it, got you screaming in a second._

_From Loubear:_

_Haha, got me there. Anyway, I'm going to bed. You should go, too. Gnight_

_To Loubear:_

_Sweet Dreams, love xx_

But just after he sent the last message, a saw what he had really written, he broke into soundless sobs and tearless crying. Their messages felt so real, it all felt like  _before._ And Harry incredulously wanted more and more.

*

It had been a slow process. Full of careful steps and gentle touching. It was delicate as creating bouquet of flowers which could cut your fingers and let you fall asleep until your true love found you and kissed you just right. It started with small talks about casual things. Weather, new brands of clothing, pink ponnies and lovable football players. They were becoming more and more comfortable around each other, when it came to texts. They haven't had a Skype call, they both were some kind of scared, partly nervous, but mostly not ready to hear each other's voice which could bring all those memories back. They tried to remember the good stuff and learn from the bad, but it wasn't something to be done in days. It equalled the time they had spent together.

There were hard times, they had their tempers, life wasn't easy for neither and admitting the word  _ex_ wasn't the easiest thing to do. Not when they were so addicted to each other when they lasted. Not when all of those promises were made just to see then crumble down under the pressure of instability.

But it was worth it. They could call themselves friends. They weren't strong enough to keep their relationship, but they were never going to slip their friendship inbetween their fingers. Because universe creates this kind of soul mate only once a lifetime. They became friends and both thought friends was good. Louis was sure things would td better and brighter with time passing by. And Harry, Harry was happy whenever Louis was. It was a win-win situation, wasn't it? Maybe not, but who cared when it worked for a while for both of them? It was not that Louis wasn't grateful, or Harry hadn't had his own life, it was just the thing they were entwined with roads and branches that could never be broken. It was just that they  _felt_ each other better than anyone. And that, right there across the ocean, it was scary. It was crazy they weren't simply able to let go of each other's hand. However, they both  _had_  their own life. And not every secret was transparent enough even for that kind of people who sensed every thunder and stumbled across every earthquake. Or maybe they were blind, because if you can't see it, it can't hurt you, that's what they say.

It was three years later. Louis was 29, too old to change his life. Too tired and too lost in his own past.

Harry just turned 24 and those thoughts he thought were buried deep enough, scraped their fangs up and bit on his neck like the vampire of a friend he was. He  _wanted_ to go home. He wanted Louis close. He wanted to try, he was desperate enough. He lied to himself all the time he was out, he told boys he liked them, he told them they were beautiful if he only could take a glimpse of a Louis look-alike. He faked feelings just to make the real hidden. But it wouldn't work forever. He was almost sure he'd explode if he didn't have the last go.

He was on his way to London, a surprise journey home. He only told his mum to pick him up from the airport. He was as happy as a childish fool. His nerves tingled, skin was tightened. He couldn't wait to see Louis again. After three long years. He was ready to stay, to give up all he worked on. He was ready to do it for  _love._

The images in his head were too pretty to be real, but who told him not to dream? Maybe some parts of him knew that coming to his house and telling him he still loved him was easy, but the smarter part of his imagination was a bit more realistic. What would he even say? What would Louis look like for real now? He was almost thirty. Yes, Harry had seen him through the computer screen, they were brave enough to try, but real expression was something completely different. What will Louis wear? What will be his scent, did he change a brand of perfume? Would he even be at home? He used to be home by six, but has it changed? What will be his first words? Will he even let Harry talk?

He was becoming paranoid by the time he has landed. His suitcase was a bit too heavy and head too light. He didn't really concentrate and his mum immediately realised by the way he subconsciously hugged her with one arm and averted his gaze. Everything was distant for him, but the end of his glowing path.

"Let's get you home, honey," Anne said and softly patted Harry's knee. He didn't pay much attention, he just stared out of the window at the land he hasn't seen for three years. He was too afraid of accidentally bumping into Louis he'd rather have his family visit New York. The city itself was a bit too rough and a lot different than London. Maybe it was the people, their faces were almost the same. You passed strangers and walked by cars, but no one would give you a second look. Back home, he remembered, it wasn't like that. He used to grow up in Holmes Chapel, a small town, before they moved to London for the sake of it. And even though his hometown was nothing compared to the capital, the Big Apple was  _disturbing_ in some way. He had never considered it a place to call home even though he had rented a flat and made it as British as possible, it was just his nature battling the new environment. However, there was a time when he finally realised why his bed was never warm enough and all of the clothes were folded in neat columns. He has known it for a long time. Any place  _could_ feel like a warm nest as long as he had Louis by his side. Which was, unfortunately, never much of a case.

"Yeah, mum. But I have something- I need to go to-"

"Louis'," she said, small smile playing on her lips. It never stopped amazing Harry how much she understood without words being spoken, how much she knew about her son's hidden feelings.

"Uhm, uhh, yes. How did you-"

"I know you came because of him. Harry, I'm your mother, I know you. And I can tell that you still feel the same about him. I know you miss him. You've changed since you went separate ways, you know? It is like some sort of you is missing. It was only a matter of time you'd come to find it, the piece, the love, again," her voice was like honey and Harry suddenly realised he loved her so much and how much he has missed her, too.

"Mum..."

"But darling, just because you are here now, it doesn't mean the time you were lost is gone. I'm not saying anything just... Be careful, alright? Do what your heart tells you to do, but keep your feet on the ground. That's all I can tell you."

Harry has heard the worry in her voice, the silent warning she gave him, but the picture of Louis in his wallet and the love in his heart has overtaken his mind, far too much to listen properly.

*

Harry stood before the apartment complex he's known by heart. He hoped Louis hasn't moved, but he hasn't mentioned anything about it. He took a deep breath and straightened his shirt, pulled his jeans up and combed his hair with fingers. He was shaken up to death but he had to. He promised himself to try.

He knocked three times and put on a brave shining smile. It felt like forever until the door revealed Louis with his hair down, glasses on the bridge of his nose, striped T-shirt and loose sweats. He was barefoot and Harry's jaw flew down. He was  _beautiful._ In his normality, he just was. And Harry stared while Louis stared back. Both too shocked to make a sound. The first one to come to his senses was Harry.

"Hello, Louis," he said with an awkward smile. He might have wanted to slap himself just after he said that because Louis eyes turned lagoon of disbelief.

"Harry, what are you- how did- oh my god," his right palm shot up to cover his mouth.

"I'm at home. For now, maybe for a little longer," Harry silently responed to unfinished questions. He wasn't so sure himself. But what was really important, was his being there at the particular time.

"C-come in, please, oh god."

Harry stepped into the hall, nothing has really changed. A new coat on his rack and a new pair of shoes was the only thing Harry didn't remember from his last visit. The colour on the wall was still the same, a large mirror on the closet door was still reflecting the beauty in from of himself. And then he hugged him. Hugged him so tight their bones must have broken with the force. He hugged him for a long time, longer than he's even hugged anyone. It was just their moment of pure silence.

"What are you even doing here? And why didn't you tell me, Hazz? I almost had a heart attack," Louis laughed once they sat beside each other on the sofa with glasses of red wine.

"It was kind of... On the spot decision you'd say. And I wanted to surprise you," Harry grinned, familiar heat filling his chest. He was happy and all he needed was a little bit of Louis' presence.

"Mission accomplished then, I am very very surprised you little twig."

They had a lot of laugh that evening. It was just a casual talk, a bit forced from Harry, but still very nice, smoothly going. They talked about New York, the topic seemed like an endless waterfall of facts for Louis. He described the beautiful skyline, every skyscraper seemed so different when you put enough effort in watching it. He even counted windows on one in front of his school just for them to pity those cleaners, singing  _I feel lonely_ by Sascha. They were already halfway through the second bottle of wine, cheeks and eyes bright with excitement of each other's company. It was just like the old times.

Time flew by at ridiculous speed. They hadn't realised but it was already past eleven and Louis knew he was running out of time. But he didn't know how to start, he didn't know what to say or how to act. Little did he know Harry felt exactly the same, fiddling with his fingers and fixing his hair. The tension became almost unbearable. And just that, in that moment when it all almost exploded, the both choked out too quickly to catch up.

"I've got to tell you something."

It was just like a cliche movie. They both laughed halfheartedly and Harry motioned to Louis to be the first one to express his thoughts. He was anxious, he was  _scared_. But Louis was his world. And he didn't want to mess up with unprepared words.

"Harry... I know I should have- this is not a right time and I'm sorry, I just-"

"It's okay, whatever it is, it's fine, Louis," Harry put a brave smile on his lips, encouraging Louis to talk more. He silently hoped Louis was about to say what he wanted to hear.

"Harry, you don't understand, I- I should have told you, I'm-"

"Yes, love?"

"I'm getting married."

It was like a rock on Harry's heart. He felt like death. The air was knocked out of his lungs. Shell-shocked was an understandable description of his gaze.

"You- when- oh god- what?"

"I'm sorry. I should have told you, I just never thougt you'd come home. Not now. Not when... I just, I thought you would stay there forever. Harry, it's been three years. I waited. I swear," Louis shook his head, voice breaking at every syllable.

"It's not that, oh, Louis, it's not... I'm just, you never said anything-"

"I couldn't. I simply wasn't able to even write those words. Maybe I thought it wasn't real when I talked to you. And then we were  _best_  friends. Again. And I felt like this could wreck it. And it did, you see."

"How long have you been together?"

"Nearly two years. He's... His name is Tom."

"When is the wedding, Lou?" so much hurt was audible in the simple call from desperation.

"It's... Harry, just two weeks from now."

"Oh, wow. Uhm, I never thought, I haven't had a clue..." he kept mumbling to himself.

"Harry, please, I'm sorryy" Louis whispered.

"You don't have to be, we're friends. The best ones, ain't we? You said it yourself," he said is as the harshest curse.

"Will you come then? I'd love to have you there. Lottie would love to see you again. They all have asked for you, I just... You don't have to, I'm stupid to even ask. I shouldn't have... it's just, you're important."

"Yes. Yeah, I can... Yeah. I'll come. For you."

"Harry, I-"

"It's fine, Louis. I'm fine. I'm happy. Congratulations. I can't wait to meet him, bet he's incredible. It takes some guts to catch your eye, am I right?"

"Yeah, I guess. If you wait half an hour, he should be at home. He usually-"

"I can't," Harry abruptly jumped into Louis' speech. It was maybe too fast, but he couldn't stand the thought of meeting a man who stole his place where Harry abandoned it.

"I can't, I promised mum to be home soon. I landed this evening."

"Oh, yeah... sure, so, you're going?"

"Yeah, it was nice. This whole... thing. Congrats again. To him. To you. Lovely seeing you again."

"You, too. Thanks for... everything, Harry."

Then they awkwardly hugged and Harry had the door shut behind him, tears already stinging in his eyes. He was already outside when he heard a calling of his name.

"Harry. Harry, stop!"

"Yeah?" he glanced up and shouted back.

"You wanted to tell me something, too."

"Uhm, yea' but it doesn't matter anymore."

"Harry..." Louis voice filled with something indescribable. Some kind of realisation mixed with pain and a twisted form of happiness.

"See you for the wedding, Lou," Harry was already leaving the complex and called behind his shoulder, sticking up two fingers in his usual peace sign. Little did Louis know it was just so he didn't see his face.

As he climbed into his car and ignited his motor, radio started playing. It couldn't have been more sarcastic. He ironically smiled and a single tear slipped from his eye when  _Someone like you_  by  _Adele_  was in its highest peak.

*

The day of the wedding, morning. Louis was dressed in his tight midnight blue suit. He had his hair up and shoes newly polished. He stood in front of a mirror, doubting his every decision, just when he heard a light knock on the door. A second ago his favourite girl in the world appeared with a sad smile on her face. Her expression said it all and Louis' shoulder fell a bit when he knew.

"He's not coming, is he?" Louis asked even though he knew the answer too well.

"He showed up here about an hour ago. He- well, he didn't want to interrupt, he just handed me this for you, Lou," Lottie, Louis' younger sister, told him, looking down at her feet and fiddling with her dress. She gave him an envelope and for a slight moment a wave of pleasant memory, kinf of unreachable, but still there, ran across his spine. This was so Harry. So oldschool. A letter. He started missing him right on spot. But he couldn't do anything about it. He just... he felt. Simple as that.

_Dear Louis,_

_I'm sorry. I am really sorry, but I can't, I can't go and pretend I'm happy when all my heart does is breaking up more and more with every single time I hear your beautiful voice. I am happy for you, for your happiness and I hope he will make you happy forever. But I don't know how to act when you're in love with someone else. I don't know how to act as if I haven't been wondering what it would be like to be in his place, to have you by my side. I can't pretend I don't wish every night I have never left. I can't go unharmed when I knew I was supposed to be the groom._ _I wish for him you look at him th3y way you used to look at me. Because you're beautiful when you love._

_I wish you the best. Your happiness is above everything I believe, above everything I'll ever want. It is hard, knowing that I could have had you the way he does. But believe me, I've made my decison. However, it came too late. It happens. And I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner. I should have come home._ _I should have never let you go._

_I love you. I have always did. But you know what love means. It is never easy and it lasts forever. In ways that are not always visible. But love is immortal. For you. For me._ _For us, somewhere, maybe in another universe. It doesn't hurt that much when you imagine it as that, don't you see? But it's alright, I understand._

_I want to ask you for one favour. Just one, not too much to ask from a man like me, isn't it?_

_Don't ever forget what we had. Be happy with memories, because when the time flows, memories fade and you only remember the feeling, you remember it happened. Promise me this, it never hurts anymore once you accept your life._

_I love you, Louis, and I am leaving. I'm a coward. I know I am. And I hope you are happy there with him, you deserve someone who would love you like I should have. I have to leave because I know I can't compete him. I'm probably on my way to the airport when you are reading this. New York is a great place to get distracted, don't you think? I told you I loved the weather, it changes so quickly; just like life does. Although, I know I will never find anyone like you. But I will try, I will try for you, because I know you want me to. I'll keep looking for a person to fill the hole in my heart just so you could feel complete, you still have my heart with you, you know. It's yours. Please, take care of it. It is the most treasurous thing I have._

_Enjoy your day, this only comes once in a life._

_With all the love I can summon in a few letters._

_Forever yours,_

_Harry xx_

Louis ended reading the words, his eyes filled with tears. He folded it again, put it in his inner pocket just above his heart, where Harry's love bested steadily.

And then he looked up and there  _up in the clouds_  he saw them, when they started, when they were together and he knew he would never be able to forget about him, to forget about Harry Styles 


End file.
